We, Ourselves

Found you hiding in my box of memories
like you never left me black and blue

your voice as clear as the day
you said goodbye

laugh as warm as our flirtation
the never-were childhood sweethearts
a past we wanted, framed imagination

I held it in my shaking hands
broken into pieces of dead dreams

that yellowed over time
our story’s type fading
you see,

…that was always the problem

with writing ahead

instead
of one
l e t t e r
at a time

we decided the ending before we began

we wrote ourselves a lie
that…my god,
could have been truth
someday

but only if we
ourselves,

believed

 

 

~ Em C.

3.31.17

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